The distance stopped to matter that much. What started to matter much more were hills and mountains, in a very new dimension. Every single move of the knee was bringing pain. It only didn’t hurt when cycling down the hill. It hurt a bit less when cycling a flat road. But cycling up the hill was nothing but a nightmare. Going off the bike was a terribly painful new experience. So was going on. So was going up and down the stairs. Literally, everything connected with lifting up the knee was full of pain. It seemed to have no end. It allowed to sleep but didn’t allow to turn around in bed. It allowed to sit but didn’t allow to cross the legs. It allowed to walk but didn’t allow to take a sudden turn.

The fifth day brought a piece of relief. Slowly, still in pain, but already on my own, I walked down the stairs. I slowly crossed my legs.

I was looking out for the day when the pain will disappear and I will be fully happily fit again.

Krk, 27 January 2016

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